Chapter 80: An Encounter on the Road

Though the young girl was dressed in richly adorned garments, her demeanor and actions revealed a spoiled confusion—a lack of awareness of propriety. In a place such as this, speaking as she did, and at such volume, she drew the attention of several heads peeking out from the stairwell, and even the rowdy commotion downstairs quieted somewhat. Did she not fear that such a public scene would ruin her reputation, subjecting her to ridicule in the future? Yet, truth be told, before Wang Mang’s usurpation, women enjoyed a high status and acted with considerable freedom, especially in places distant from the Central Plains like Hanyang in Shu. After over two decades of war, education and decorum had become even more scarce. Take, for example, Sima Xiangru and Zhuo Wenjun, both famed residents of Chengdu before Wang Mang’s turmoil. Zhuo Wenjun, daughter of a wealthy merchant, eloped with Sima Xiangru and later openly ran a wine shop.

While Lu Ying pondered quietly, the girl’s anger only grew. Catching sight of Lu Ying’s calm face, she felt her rage rise anew. With cheeks flushed, she charged toward Lu Ying.

When he saw her rushing at Lu Ying, Wang Shang’s expression shifted. He stood abruptly, shouting, “A Ti, what are you doing?”

He had barely spoken when the girl, already at Lu Ying’s side, swung her right hand, aiming to slap her. As her hand flew, she shrieked, “You shameless—”

Before she could finish, her slap was caught firmly by Lu Ying. Though also a young woman, Lu Ying’s years of household chores had made her far stronger and nimbler than this pampered girl.

Lu Ying gripped the girl’s wrist and stood up. The girl struggled, face red, screaming, “Wretch! Let go of me!”

Lu Ying kept her hold. As she moved to the girl’s side, the girl shrieked and tried to kick her, but Lu Ying sidestepped deftly, then twisted the girl’s arm, forcing her to stumble forward. Holding both wrists, Lu Ying stood behind her.

Though clad in women’s dress, the way Lu Ying restrained the girl from behind was so calm and cold that she seemed almost a young man disguised as a woman. Lowering her head, Lu Ying stared at A Ti and said icily, “A Ti, did you ever consider that your outburst would make your secrets known to all? Wherever you go, people will mock you, saying you failed to win your future husband’s favor, that you’re fierce and ill-mannered, and that it’s no wonder no one wants you.”

Lu Ying’s voice was clear and cool as spring water, with a piercing quality. The girl, struggling and shrieking, froze at these words.

Seeing her understand, Lu Ying released a cold laugh, let go of the girl’s hand, and moved to the side, picking up her gauze hat and placing it atop her head.

Then, she took out the “Records of the Historian” and said quietly to Wang Shang, “Young Master Wang, this book is too precious. My younger brother cannot accept it.”

She pushed the book toward him, then moved to stand beside the girl, tilting her head. Her clear, jet-black eyes fixed on the girl as she spoke earnestly, “A Ti, don’t be so impulsive in the future. In truth, your Wang is meeting me dressed as a nun for the first time.” As she was indeed in nun’s attire, it was truly the first time she had met Wang Shang in such guise, and thus her words rang true.

Lu Ying spoke with sincerity, her gaze unwaveringly clear, and her composed admonition caused the reckless girl’s bravado to ebb away.

She murmured, “I—I only heard from someone else.”

Lu Ying replied gently, “A Ti, could you tell me who it was? I suspect they meant you no good.”

Lu Ying’s steady, gentle manner, with the poise of an elder sister, was easy to like for a girl as impulsive and simple-minded as A Ti. She lowered her head, embarrassed, and said, “She didn’t seek me out on purpose. I overheard her telling someone, ‘Lu Ying of the Lu family is a frivolous, fickle harlot—look, she’s ensnared that Wang Shang again!’”

It seemed she had unwittingly attracted someone’s attention.

Lu Ying asked softly, “Who was spreading such gossip?”

A Ti shook her head. “I don’t know her. She was a woman of about twenty-five or twenty-six, and kept badmouthing you.”

Lu Ying frowned, and after a few more questions, she confirmed that A Ti had not been deliberately lured—her misfortune was simply the result of poor luck.

Having clarified matters, Lu Ying leaned closer, speaking gently, “A Ti, you really are a good person. In the future, don’t be so hasty—and don’t cling so tightly to your Wang.”

With that, she turned to Wang Shang and bowed, saying, “Young Master Wang, Lu Ying takes her leave.”

Watching Lu Ying’s graceful, unhurried departure—her composed indifference, whether facing him or A Ti—Wang Shang pressed his lips together, his deep eyes shimmering, but he said nothing.

Lu Ying left the tavern. Not finding Lu Yun, she reasoned that a person of his size would not easily get lost, and so she turned to head home.

She had just passed through an alley when suddenly a carriage came barreling toward her. As she stopped abruptly, the carriage halted as well. The curtain was pulled aside, and a deep, magnetic voice called, “Get in!”

It was the nobleman’s voice!

Lu Ying lifted her head sharply.

She glanced around, noticing several people sneaking glances their way, and thought with some irritation, “This is just great—who knows what they’ll say about me tomorrow?”

Though annoyed, she dared not argue with the nobleman in public. So, with crisp decisiveness, she boarded the carriage.

From the outside, it looked ordinary, but inside, it was exquisitely comfortable. Black velvet covered the floor, and as Lu Ying stepped in, she left a large muddy footprint.

The two beautiful attendants behind the nobleman both lowered their eyes to the muddy mark. Lu Ying herself looked down at her own foot.

After a glance, she pressed her foot down again, making another clear print.

Both attendants showed expressions of disdain. They gazed at Lu Ying, waiting for this low-born, mud-stained country nun to display the shame and timidity befitting her status in such refined surroundings.

Lu Ying did not tremble or cower. She frowned, then scraped her other shoe clean on the velvet, only taking her seat opposite the nobleman once both shoes were spotless.

—Sitting in this way, mud might easily soil one’s clothes. In other households, one would usually change shoes. With none offered here, Lu Ying naturally prioritized her own cleanliness.

The two attendants stared wide-eyed, watching her every move. In truth, if it were another family’s noble, such conduct would be proper, but coming from Lu Ying—a woman of humble origin—it seemed offensive to them.

Thus, their gaze toward her was tinged with disgust.

Just then, the nobleman, who had seemed to rest with closed eyes, suddenly spoke coldly, “Leave.”

The three women were startled; the two attendants’ eyes brightened, glancing triumphantly at Lu Ying.

Lu Ying’s expression did not change; she calmly poured herself a drink.

The nobleman opened his eyes slightly, and his long, slanted gaze shimmered. He closed them again and said blandly, “You two—go and accept your punishment.”

At these words, the attendants’ faces turned pale as snow. Both knelt, kowtowing to the nobleman, pleading, “Master...”

“Out!”

With that command, they could no longer utter a word. Flustered, they scrambled out of the carriage, and once on the ground, their fear and anxiety left their beautiful faces gray and trembling.

Lu Ying withdrew her gaze.

Judging from their attire and demeanor, those two attendants had held some status at the nobleman’s side. Yet with a single word—“out”—he reduced them to the state of lost dogs. Was it fear of losing their rare position and privilege, or fear of some other punishment?

Taking a slow sip of wine, Lu Ying mused: The Ping family goes to such lengths—they wish me to become one among them...

Just as she was lost in thought, the nobleman’s deep, magnetic voice spoke again, “Prepare yourself. Arrive in Chengdu before the seventh of next month.”

What?

Lu Ying’s head snapped up.

Yet the nobleman closed his eyes again, tending to his rest. In the sunlight, his brows were slightly furrowed, his composed expression betraying no hint of emotion.

Lu Ying thought for a moment, then nodded: Today is the third, and the seventh is still a month away. Hanyang and Chengdu are close; the journey should not exceed seven days.

She stood, bowed to the nobleman, and said quietly, “Lu Ying takes her leave.”

As she finished, she called to the driver outside, “Stop here.”

The carriage halted.

As Lu Ying stepped down, she glanced back at the muddy footprints she’d left, then at the nobleman, and wondered: Did he dismiss those two attendants because they showed disrespect toward me?

Even the driver stopped at her word, without hesitation or question, lending credence to this suspicion.

...Lu Ying disliked this feeling. Accustomed to self-discipline, she instinctively weighed pros and cons. To her, the more the nobleman valued her, the more troublesome things would become.

Watching the carriage recede into the distance, Lu Ying’s eyes gleamed with resolve. She thought: When I reach Chengdu, I must find a way to draw a clear boundary with him.

Half an hour after Lu Ying returned home, Lu Yun arrived as well.

Seeing Lu Ying reading, he sidled up and whispered to her, then set a book before her.

It was none other than the “Records of the Historian.”

Lu Ying frowned, and Lu Yun scratched his head, a little embarrassed. “Sister, I had no choice. Young Master Wang looked displeased, shoved the book at me without a word, and I got a bit nervous.”

Lu Ying looked up at him and asked, “So you saw Young Master Wang again?”

Lu Yun nodded, “He kept drinking, a lot. His guard summoned me over. After he called me, he forced the book into my hands, and his face was terrible. Sister, you don’t know—if I’d said ‘no’ then, he’d have had someone beat me up.”